


There is Beauty

by suzuyaaaaa



Category: Tokyo Ghoul
Genre: Ballet, Dancing, Gen, Implied/Referenced Torture, Pre-Anteiku Raid, Root A Universe, dancer!juuzou, juuzou's past
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-08
Updated: 2016-06-08
Packaged: 2018-07-11 21:41:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7071541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/suzuyaaaaa/pseuds/suzuyaaaaa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Juuzou and his true passion.</p><p>-</p><p>(me exploring one of my hcs for suzuya)</p>
            </blockquote>





	There is Beauty

**Author's Note:**

> one of my BIG BIG headcanons for juuzou is that he loves ballet so :)) also, hbd to the boy himself!! cheers to u and ur greatness!!

Juuzou Suzuya knows with undeniable certainty that nobody ever thought of him as somebody who enjoyed beauty. Truthfully, nothing really amazes him enough for him to gaze at it in awe just because it looks nice. There is never beauty in spring when everything comes alive, there is never beauty in the several faces he meets on the job, and there has never been beauty throughout his nineteen years, not anything he can remember. Life is filled with darkness, but he didn’t mind. He joined the CCG for a reason. Darkness is filled with thrills and adventures just waiting at the edge, and Juuzou lives for every possibly fatal experience.

There is one thing he finds to be exquisite, though. It's filled with light and grace, and whenever he does it, his heart is filled with inexplicable joy. He comes across this thought when a cherry blossom falls off a branch and onto his nose, twirling in the air when he blows it off. It looks like it's dancing, Juuzou thinks. He giggles when the pink flower lands on the sidewalk, and he twirls on his own, balancing on his skinny right leg and throwing his arms out sideways. He doesn't know why he suddenly thinks of dancing, a hobby he quit years ago, but an urge tugs at his heartstrings. He needs to dance, to twist and turn in the prettiest of ways. He should fill this night with happiness before the Anteiku raid that would take place the next day. After all, death could be just around the corner.

-

 _“Juuzou-chan, you need to train!” Mama cries out in exasperation, “Don't you want extra good boy points?” Juuzou spins around and sends her an eager smile, but his heart says otherwise._ **No, no more good points. No, no, no, I can't take it anymore.** _“Hop to it! We're having more than usual for tonight’s meal, so you need to be strong! I trust you can do it yourself, Juu-kun.” Mama waddles over to tousle Juuzou's icy, white hair, sending an array of emotions through his veins. He knows he's half gone, but he can't bring himself to regain back the morality he once had. His mind begs for Mama’s attention and praise; his soul knows better, though, but it's much weaker._

 _Juuzou gives Mama the nod she expects before she leaves and locks the door, claiming she has business to attend to. Juuzou cracks his knuckles and begins to stretch. He’s never prepared for fighting by himself, so he isn’t completely sure where to begin. A voice starts speaking to him, though, making the gangly boy freeze in place._ **You need to end this. You know none of this is right.**

_“O-Of course it’s right! Mama is always right!” Juuzou says, clearly upset at the nagging Voice. He can’t talk now. He’s wasting time, wasting away seconds that should be used to train to catch tonight’s meal._

**No, she isn’t, Rei.** _Juuzou flinches at the sound of the foreign name. Who is Rei? Surely he can’t be here._ **You’re Rei, not this “Juuzou-chan.” Snap the hell out of it!** _Juuzou chokes on his spit when tears suddenly bite his eyes._ **Aren’t you tired of being so aggressive?** _He falls onto the floor whilst biting his lip furiously._ **Aren’t you tired of the abuse and the hitting and the knives?** _His stomach churns, and he feels like he could vomit._ **She fucking hammered your dick, Rei! Aren’t you done with being a toy when you should be living a beautiful life?!**

_“SHUT THE FUCK UP! MY LIFE IS BEAUTIFUL BECAUSE MAMA IS HERE!” Juuzou yells at the top of his lungs. He punches a brick wall and lets out of a roar of anger as tears stream down his face. This Voice, what’s left of his heart, soul, and morals, has begun to pester him even more than usual, popping up randomly when he is alone and bringing back unwanted memories. “J-Just... shut up. M-My name i-is... J-Juuzou.” He doesn’t believe himself at all as the Voice seeps into his brain, and he’s forced to soak in the pain. “Mama loves me. Mama loves me. Mama loves me... so much.” The boy’s voice softens with every repetition as his doubt grows and blossoms in his chest. “You’re wrong.”_

**Give yourself a fucking break now and then from this act if you won’t admit this to yourself, dumbass.** _Juuzou looks up abruptly as if he expects to see someone staring back at him, but he can only make out dark silhouettes. He lets out a shaky sigh followed by a piercing sob, and he curls into himself instinctively. The Voice seems to finally retreat into wherever is came from, leaving Juuzou in silence, minus the sound of his own whimpers and mutterings. The space is dimly lit by a lantern creaking from above, and the noise causes chills to run up and down his spine._

_Flopping over onto his back, Juuzou decides to forget training to clear his mind instead of his thoughts permeated by the Voice. He inhales and exhales at an even pace, and the sound of his breathing helps to calm him down as well. He’s never reacted this way when conversing with the Voice; they were especially being an asshole today of all days. Juuzou holds his right hand up to the light, orange rays gazing down at him through his widely spread fingers. His breath catches in his throat suddenly in a soft gasp, and his mouth drops open in shock._

_Experimentally beginning to move his hand up and down, he smiles at how beautiful his hand could appear. He begins to separately move his fingers in these up-and-down waves, soon moving down to the rest of his arm. The creaking of the lantern fades away into nothingness, and there is nothing but Juuzou’s heartbeat in his ears as he begins moving his left arm to match the motions of the right, bringing his hands above his head. He feels like a swan as he rises with one leg held behind the other, the one behind with a pointed foot on the ground. Juuzou grins and quickly lowers his arms to make a circle before him, leaping up onto his toes and spinning across the room. He lets his arms fly out when he stops for just a millisecond, and they come back in when he dives into another spin. Juuzou feels more like a feather as he spirals around, and a rush of adrenaline bursts into his veins as he tries for a leap. His right leg extends forward and out while his left does the same except behind him, and he reaches out before him with gracefully extended fingertips._

_The moment is ruined when Juuzou lands and accidentally crashes into a wall, unable to stop his momentum in time to stop the collision. Letting out a small oof, he lands on all fours and pants, heart beating heavily in his chest. After a beat of silence, Juuzou begins to giggle. Slowly, he transitions into chuckling until he starts to fully laugh, smiling gleefully and wiping tears from his red eyes. He’s never had so much fun in his entire life; he wants to feel like he’s floating for all eternity. Maybe the Voice is right. He should give himself a break every once in awhile if he can feel this way when he does it._

-

Juuzou stands on the roof of his apartment complex and stares out at the never-sleeping city of Tokyo, decorated with neon lights that never seem to end. He smiles at the memory of his first time discovering what true freedom felt like. He remembers seeking it every night after that, especially if Mama... no, if Big Madam inflicted lots of her supposed rewards on him. Removing his hair pins, Juuzou discards them onto a nearby air conditioner, and he kicks off his slippers as well in case they would fly off while he was moving around. Snowy bangs fall into his eyes, and he let out a soft sigh, his breath turning white in the freezing air. He closes his eyes before beginning to play a piano tune in his head.

_I’ve always loved “Clair de Lune,” haven’t I?_ Juuzou wonders as he executes two pirouettes with great ease, slowing down to lunge on the third chord of the song. He can’t feel the cold concrete of the complex against his feet anymore as he begins to float off the ground, allowing himself to be lost inside his head. His limbs sway and slice through the winter air to a routine he’s always known, one that comes to him whenever he hears Debussy’s composition. As the song intensifies, Juuzou leaps across the roof in a grand jeté like the jump he tried to execute years ago, and lands with an attitude, his right leg curved up behind him and his arms creating an oval above his head. He’s become much more skilled since his days in Big Madam’s prison, and he’s somehow retained his strength and flexibility despite not doing any of these moves for a while.

Juuzou immerses himself in his artform, and he loses track of time whilst soaring and whirling across the rooftop. Dance is the one thing he finds beauty in, his savior of sanity despite the general assumption that he’s completely lost his mind. As he continues to sweep through the night, he thinks of Big Madam. He’s come to terms that Big Madam’s treatment was far from what love was, but... he can’t bring himself to hate her. Maybe it’s because her abuse and his past deeds made him lose any morality he had left; he can’t hear the Voice anymore telling him to do the right or sensible thing. All he has left is his own will and desire. If he really thought about it, though, he couldn’t hate Big Madam because without her, he might not have discovered the joy of dancing. The CCG wouldn’t have rescued him, and he wouldn’t be able to take those life-changing beginners’ ballet classes, and therefore, he wouldn’t be so happy at this current moment. He will never forgive her, yes -- he still has scars across his back and a hole between his legs -- but that’s different from hating her.

“Clair de Lune” slowly begins to come to a close, and Juuzou peeks up at the pale moon through his dark lashes. His hand is outstretched towards the light, and he beams when he sees the clean, red stitches running down his arm. He’s come so far since his days of torture on his own with some help from his art. Dance will always come back to comfort him in ways nothing else can. Life is filled with darkness, but he doesn’t mind because he has beauty in this one light in his heart.

**Author's Note:**

> sorry for any typos and thanks for reading!!
> 
> [hmu on my main tumblr](http://lilacgrowth.tumblr.com/) [or my tg one!](http://suzuyaaaaa.tumblr.com/)


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